


fool you once, shame on me

by AshesAndDrums



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesAndDrums/pseuds/AshesAndDrums
Summary: The whole thing had honestly started as an accident.Clarke's coworker made a comment about the cleanliness of her workstation which sent her into a cleaning frenzy. Unfortunately, that energy didn't just keep to her place of work.She spent the weekend cleaning, rearranging, and even painting their kitchen.It's early Monday morning when Bellamy stumbles into the kitchen to get the coffee pot going. He's still groggy so it takes him two tries before he remembers Clarke moved the mugs.When the coffee is finally ready, he pours himself a generous cup and doctors it up with cream and sugar. He's taking that first blissful sip and... spits it out all over the counter."What the hell?" He manages between coughs.He glances around before his eyes land on the ceramic sugar container on the counter. Slowly, Bellamy pulls it towards him and sticks his pinky inside, bringing the white granules to his tongue. The taste of salt makes his face screw up.He writes Clarke a note in front of the coffee machine and honestly that should have been that._Or the one where Clarke and Bellamy get into a prank war.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 145
Collections: Bellarke Bingo





	fool you once, shame on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kindclaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindclaws/gifts).



> FINALLY finished one of my Bellarke Bingo fics!
> 
> These were suggested by kindclaws:  
> Established Relationship  
> Prank Wars

The whole thing had honestly started as an accident.

One of Clarke's coworkers made an offhand comment about the cleanliness of her workstation which, in true Clarke fashion, meant she had to prove anyone and everyone wrong, sending her into a cleaning frenzy. Unfortunately, that energy didn’t just keep to her place of work.

Their place was never dirty, by any means; Bellamy was used to cleaning up after his sister, so tidying up after himself and someone else was just habit at this point. But after the thing at work, Clarke made a declaration about pulling her weight around the house and thus "Clarke's Spring Cleaning Project" was born… nevermind they were a couple of months well past Spring. Unpacking boxes that they haven't touched since they moved from their apartment into their house 5 years ago, only to then turn around and use those same boxes for sorting the donations from the trash which was certainly economical. She even had plans for the attic, which honestly even Bellamy is too scared to go in there; it's why most of their holiday decorations are in storage containers in the garage instead. 

The crowning jewel of Clarke’s project came this past weekend in which she spent cleaning, rearranging, and even _painting_ their kitchen.

"This color is much more cheerful," she had told him, along with, "And doesn't the silverware make much more sense in this drawer?"

Bellamy didn't mind. And honestly? It did make more sense for the silverware to be in that drawer.

It's early the next Monday morning when he stumbles into the kitchen and gets the coffee pot going, completely unable to start his workday without having a cup. He's still groggy so it takes him two tries before he remembers that Clarke moved the mugs too.

He's waiting patiently, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and when the coffee is finally ready he pours himself a generous cup and doctors it up with cream and sugar. He's taking that first blissful sip and as soon as the liquid touches his tongue… he spits it out all over the counter.

"What the hell?" He manages between coughs.

Bellamy takes an experimental, tentative sip like somehow this one will be different from the first. At least this time he manages to spit the god awful stuff back into his cup. He grimaces and glares at the liquid like it's personally betrayed him.

He glances around before his eyes land on the ceramic sugar container on the counter. Slowly, Bellamy pulls it towards him and sticks his pinky inside, bringing the white granules to his tongue. The taste of salt makes his face screw up.

Bellamy eyes the salt container next and brings it over to repeat the process. Sugar. 

It’s still too early for him to properly process this so he just makes another, _proper_ , cup of coffee and goes about his morning getting ready. He kisses Clarke on the forehead goodbye before she’s even gotten out of bed and writes her a note and leaves it on the counter in front of the coffee machine.

Bellamy gets a text from her later when he’s unlocking the door to his office at the University saying, “Sorry! Thanks for the heads up!” and honestly that should have been that…

*

To be fair, he didn't plan on seeking revenge. All of the pieces just sort of fell into his lap. Or rather, fell into his desk drawer after he confiscated it from a student.

It's a couple of days later in the week and Clarke's decided to try one of those websites where you type in all the random ingredients you have in your house and it tells you a possible meal you can make with what you got. They usually have to do this once or twice a month because they forgot to put something on the grocery list and they don't feel like ordering takeout again.

She walks out of the kitchen carrying the pot of gumbo or goulash or whatever it's supposed to be (stew maybe?) and brings it over to the table. Bellamy watches intently, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and tries to hide it behind his glass of water.

“Well, at least it smells good,” Clarke says and sets the pot on the trivet. She plops down in her seat and then immediately shoots out of her chair due to the sound it makes.

Bellamy can’t contain his laughter after that, not that he's really trying anymore.

“What the hell?” she asks, brows furrowed in confusion. She moves the cushion on her chair to find a whoopee cushion underneath it. Clarke lifts it up with something like disbelief on her face before she turns her focus on him and stares with a frown.

Bellamy’s still chuckling, “Consider it payback.”

Clarke purses her lips but he can tell she’s trying hard not to smile. “I'm sorry,” she starts as she sits down again and waves the whoopee cushion back and forth, “are we 12?"

"Funny enough,” he says as he starts ladling food into their bowls, “I confiscated that from some frat kid in my Ancient Civilizations class that probably has the IQ of a 12 year old."

She laughs at that as he sets her bowl down in front of her. "You know the salt and sugar thing was an accident, right?"

Bellamy shrugs as he sits back down, "I know."

She shakes her head and then blows up the whoopee cushion so she can squeeze the air out directly in his face. 

He smirks. Now he knows it’s on.

*

A few days later, they're both up at the same time, Clarke having to get up earlier than usual for a new exhibit opening at the museum. He's shuffling behind her on their way to the kitchen and nearly has a heart attack when he tries to cross the threshold. _Someone_ put saran wrap from one side of the doorframe to the other, just high enough so that _someone_ is able to walk under it while _he_ gets a face full of plastic.

His "what the fuck!?" is drowned out by his wife’s laughter. Bellamy threatens to withhold her morning caffeine, but they both know that's an empty threat. 

He retaliates instead by putting bubble wrap under the rug that leads to their bathroom one night after she's gone to sleep. It succeeds in scaring the literal piss out of her at 3am. (That one kind of backfires because it scares him awake too and somehow he ends up on the floor.)

It's the next week when Clarke strikes again, sticking with her tried and true plastic wrap. Bellamy almost breaks the damn bottle of his body wash with how hard he tries to squeeze the soap out. Apparently that wasn’t enough because she covered the openings of his shampoo _and_ conditioner too. Jokes on her though cause he doesn't mind smelling like her citrus wash and shampoo all day.

He tries something a little more creative next and hides all of her right shoes so she's forced to go to work with two mismatched left flats. 

Since apparently this opens up work attire as a new area for their so-called torture, she hides all of his ties except for the novelty one Murphy got him as a gag gift that has rubber ducks on it. She makes sure to take a picture and send it to their entire friend group.

Bellamy knows, logically, that they could stop at any time. But the pranks are harmless, even a little exhilarating, as they wait to see what the other will do next. They still kiss each other good morning, binge watch sitcom reruns curled up on the couch in the afternoons, and make love at night. They’re not even that subtle about it, each one having caught the other looking up pranks online which prompts Clarke to politely inform him that if he fills her Oreos with toothpaste that she would definitely divorce him.

It startles him a bit when, about a little over a month after this whole “prank war” thing started, she meets him at the garage door when he gets home with a smile on her face. He's wary, to say the least.

"What did you do?" He asks, wondering if he’s missed a sign taped to his back all day.

She chuckles softly, "Nothing. But I have a surprise for you.”

She takes his hand and leads him to sit down on the couch while she perches in front of him on the coffee table. Her hand never leaves his and now she’s brought the other one into the mix so his is sandwiched between her small ones.

"I'm pregnant."

He feels his breath hitch and his heart stop. But then his head starts to weigh in and he narrows his eyes as her.

"That's not funny, Clarke."

She blinks at him, opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finally speaks. "What, you think I'm lying?"

"Come on, clearly you stole this from Brooklyn Nine Nine. We just rewatched that heist episode the other night.”

Clarke let’s go of his hand so she can drop her head into her’s and groan, "Oh my God, Bellamy.” 

He’s not done though; he’s more than a little miffed. "Where did you see this prank going exactly?” he has to ask.

"It's not a fucking prank,” She snaps at him. “And if I have to pee on a Goddamn stick in front of you to prove it then fine."

She's clearly upset about this which makes him more inclined to believe her. And really, deep down, Bellamy _knows_ she wouldn't lie about something like this. Something they both want.

All the same, he follows her without protest as she drags him into their bathroom and makes him sit on the edge of the tub while she rifles through the cabinet under the sink, grumbling the whole way as she does it.

When she's done; she sets a timer on her phone, crosses her arms, and stares at him while they wait. She’s sitting on the closed toilet lid, her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted into a pout.

Her phone goes off and she continues to look at him but her stare turns pointed, eyes shifting from him to the stick and then back to him. His palms are sweaty and he doesn't know why but he reaches across her for the pregnancy test on the counter

All the air leaves his lungs in a simple, "Holy shit."

"I'm going to hold this against you for, like, the entire pregnancy. And maybe the first few years of this kid's life."

She's probably still pretty pissed at him but she's looking at him with tears in her eyes so he figures it’s safe to lean forward and press a soft kiss to her lips.

She keeps her word. And when she says she's in labor, he’s sure to believe her.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never actually been in a prank war so I asked a bunch of my married friends what they do to each other which was hilariously fun.
> 
> There's also a slight HIMYM reference in there if you squint.


End file.
